


Life in the Fast Lane

by TheGreatDivide



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drunk Driving, F/M, Fluff, Kind of? But it's Dean so he's fine, Mechanic Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatDivide/pseuds/TheGreatDivide
Summary: My life has been planned out from the very start - go to College, become a lawyer, settle down in the suburbs with the white picket fence and try not to go crazy with boredom. The handsome mechanic who just happens to be my best friend's older brother might say differently though...





	1. No-One Like You

"How're you holding up, stud?"

Sam's head jerked up from where it had been resting against one of his notepads, and he grunted gently in response, shaking his head a little and blinking rapidly, as if he hadn't just been taking a nap on his notes in the middle of the library.

"M'fine." He mumbled, pushing hair out of his eyes as he sat back in his chair, looking up at me with a weary smile as I set a coffee down in front of him. 

"Figured you could do with some caffeine." I said sympathetically. "You sounded tired on the phone." 

Sam groaned gently in response, snatching the cheap Styrofoam cup up and taking a gulp, which he regretted almost as soon as he actually tasted it. It was only the cheap instant coffee from the machine downstairs, which tasted like shit and came out cold more often than not, but it was basically pure caffeine, and judging by how tired Sam had sounded on the phone half an hour earlier it was what he needed. 

"Thanks." He mumbled, running fingers through his mussed up hair and smiling weakly. "I owe you one."

"I'll call it even if you go home and shave this off." I teased, poking at the stubble on his cheeks. He batted my hand away, chuckling gently. "Seriously, man... What's this supposed to be, huh?"

"Oh, haven't you heard?" He leaned back in his chair, shooting me a grin as he sipped his coffee. "It's the new look called 'stress'." 

"Mmh..." I nodded slowly, still unconvinced. "Well when you go home later and finally _shower_ you can shave it off. I hate it." 

"Yes mom." He teased gently, shooting me another grin to let me know he wasn't serious. Our friendship over the past couple of years had practically been built on a mutual mothering - either I was stressed and Sam was taking care of me, or he was stressed and I was doing the same for him. It was mutually beneficial, and it stopped either one of us from keeling over out of exhaustion or malnutrition. 

I dropped into the seat beside him, flicking through his notes slowly. "Damn, this assignment looks... Fun."

"Yeah, remind me why I took a module on environmental law again?" Sam groaned, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets in an attempt to keep himself awake.

"I think you called it 'keeping your options open'." I said without bothering to look up from his notes. "But we both know it's because chicks dig a guy who loves the environment."

Sam laughed at that, shaking his head slowly as he looked up at me. "I think you're partly to blame for it as well, you know. I _think_ I remember you telling me that it would be fun to do environmental law together."

"Phft..." I snorted, tossing the papers back onto his desk and rolling my eyes. It was entirely true that I had been the one to convince Sam to take the environmental law module with me so I wouldn't have to suffer through it alone, but I didn't want to be reminded of it. "Yeah, whatever. How much more have you got left on this anyway?"

Probably another couple of solid hours." He murmured, leaning forwards over his desk with another low groan of exhaustion. We'd both been pulling all-nighters through the week in an attempt to get the assignments submitted for class, but I'd managed to finish before him. When he'd called me earlier to ask a question about one of the case studies, he'd sounded so tired I'd actually taken pity on him and had walked back up to the student library in order to keep him company and supply him with coffee. Even though he wouldn't say it, I knew he was grateful for the distraction. 

"You want to talk about something else for a bit?" I asked, swinging my legs up onto the desk. He shrugged, leaning back in his chair again and trying to stifle a yawn. "How about your birthday, hm? It's your twenty-first, and we still don't have any plans."

"I've told you already." Sam mumbled through another yawn. "Just dinner. It's too close to finals for us to go all out on a party." 

"Okay, well where do you want to go to dinner?" I asked, biting back a grin. This was the third time Sam and I had gone through this conversation about his birthday. He had no idea that his older brother Dean had actually planned a surprise party for him, which would be taking place on the upcoming weekend. Jess had been talking to their mom, Mary about it. Apparently Dean knew Sam didn't want a big party so close to finals, but Dean _definitely_ wanted to see his baby brother getting drunk for his twenty-first. As a compromise he'd decided to hold a party three weeks before Sam's birthday, but my job was to keep Sam distracted throughout the day so Dean and Jess could set it up. 

"I don't know..." He whined, resting his forehead back on the desk pathetically. "Can't you or Jess pick for me?"

"Sam, it's _your_ birthday." I chided. "Gotta make the decision for yourself. I seriously don't care, even if it's Burger King. I just want you to actually make a choice so we can book a table."

"I'll think about it." He mumbled into the table. I reached over with a smile to gently pat the top of his head before grabbing his notes again. 

"Take a power nap, Sam." I said quietly. "I'll wake you up in fifteen." 

* * *

The easiest way to distract Sam was studying. It always worked. Last year, when Jessica had cooked him dinner in their apartment and had needed the place to herself for a few years I took it upon myself to bombard him with questions about the upcoming tests, and he'd stayed with me in the library to answer every single one of them. Like a sucker, he fell for it again, and the two of us spent the whole day in the library. Even for a distraction, it was a pretty productive day - we went over notes about case studies that we'd collected over the year, and quizzed each other in preparation for an upcoming oral exam. By the time Jessica texted me to say that they were ready for him, I was pretty mentally drained, and so was Sam. 

"Thanks for today." I said with a small smile as we drove to Sam and Jess' apartment. Sam returned the smile in the darkness of the car, stretching in his seat. 

"No problem. You've done the same thing for me more times than I can count. It's about time I returned the favour." 

We pulled up outside his apartment building, and as Sam got out of the car I sent Jess a quick text. _We're here, get ready._

I followed Sam up to his apartment, trying to keep the grin off my face as we climbed the stairs to his door. When we were outside his apartment, Sam mentioned something about ordering a pizza and watching a crappy movie, before turning the key in the lock and opening the door to a pitch-black apartment.

It wasn't dark for long. As soon as Sam flicked on the light, twenty people leapt to their feet screaming _'surprise!'_ at the top of their lungs. A few party poppers went off, and Sam yelped in surprise, jumping back almost a foot. 

I couldn't help but laugh as he turned to me, betrayal written across his features. "You were in on this?"

"I ran interference." I told him proudly, ignoring his pout and hugging him tightly. "Happy birthday in advance, Sam."

"You know I'm gonna get you back for this, right?" He whispered in my ear with a laugh as Jess walked over to us to give him a kiss. I pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Oh you can _try_ , Winchester." I challenged, winking at him as I went to make myself a drink. Sam was quickly enveloped in hugs from our friends, and from people I'd never met but knew only by name and from pictures I'd seen in Sam's apartment. His mum, Mary was the blonde woman who hugged him tightly, and his father John was the tall man who clapped him on the back. 

His older brother Dean was the last to approach him, but he practically picked his younger brother up with the force of his hug, ruffling his hair good-naturedly as he grinned up at him. I watched them for a few moments, smiling as drinks were pushed into Sam's hands and Dean forced a party hat onto his head, before disappearing back into the crowd of our college friends. 

I hadn't seen Sam in half an hour when I heard him calling my name from the kitchen. I'd been busy mingling with our friends, joking about deadlines and exams, drinking and dancing, and generally just enjoying the evening. Sam called my name, and when I turned to look for him, I saw him stood in the kitchen with his family, beckoning me over. 

Sam's cheeks were already flushed pink from the alcohol when he pulled me into a one armed hug, grinning up at his parents proudly. "Best friend." He announced proudly. I chuckled, patting his chest gently as I accepted the tight hug. 

"So you're the girl we've been hearing so much about." John smiled gently, raising his glass in greeting. "Sam's told us a lot about you, he's been excited for us to meet you." 

"Well it's nice to finally meet you guys too." I grinned back at them, extracting myself from Sam's grasp as he reached for another beer. Although Mary and John still lived out in Lawrence, Dean had moved to California not long after Sam had started College. He now worked at the local Garage/Salvage yard, which Sam had told me was run by an old family friend. Despite having lived in the same town for over a year, Dean and I had never met before.

"She's probably one of the only reasons I survived last year." Sam laughed, throwing his arm around me again. "My mom away from home." 

Dean chuckled from where he was leaning against the counter, sipping his beer and meeting his gaze. "Thanks for not letting him die." 

"Wasn't easy." I joked, meeting his gaze with a smile. "I had to teach him how to cook more than just Spaghettios." 

"Oh you can blame that nutritious diet on Dean." John joked, nudging his eldest son's shoulder. Dean shot me an embarrassed smile, but didn't deny it. 

"Hey, when he was four it was the only thing he'd eat." He explained, almost apologetically. I shared his grin for a few seconds, before Mary and John excused themselves, mentioning something about getting more drinks from the living room. At the offer for more alcohol, Sam followed quickly behind them, leaving me alone with Dean in the kitchen as REO Speedwagon began to play over the speakers. 

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as I punched the air. I fucking _loved_ REO Speedwagon, and _Can't Fight This Feeling_ was one of my favourite songs. Whoever was in charge of the music tonight was definitely in my good books. Dean on the other hand, wasn't pleased. 

"Really? Who put this playlist on?" He laughed, shaking his head. I narrowed my eyes instinctively, instantly defensive over my beloved Kevin Cronin's voice. 

"Tell me you're not one of those pretentious rock fans who hates REO?" I raised an eyebrow, already knowing the answer before he spoke. 

"Tell me you're not one of those people who thinks REO is worth listening to?" He countered, grinning at me over his beer. I heard the challenge in his voice, saw his green eyes twinkle as he grinned, and set my mouth in a thin, straight line. 

* * *

"You can't _seriously_ be telling me you think REO Speedwagon is objectively a better band than Led Zeppelin." 

Dean and I had ended up retreating to Sam's room about twenty minutes after we'd started arguing over classic rock bands. In order to get away from the loud music and near constant interruptions of my drunk friends, Dean had led me into Sam's bedroom, closed the door behind us, and started the conversation again. I had no idea how long we'd been in here for, arguing over bands, but we'd gone from standing at opposite ends of the room to perching on the edge of the bed next to each other, sitting so close that our knees were touching. 

"I never said that!" I laughed. "But _you_ can't seriously tell me that Back on the Road Again isn't a fantastic song!"

Dean paused, thinking about it for a second as he sipped on his beer, glancing over at me out of the corner of his eye. After a moment's silence, he conceded. "It's an... alright song."

"A _great_ song." I corrected, jabbing a finger in his direction. Dean downed the rest of his beer, chuckling gently and shrugging. 

"Okay, for argument's sake..." He put his empty beer bottle down on the floor beside Sam's bed before resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at me with a smile on his lips. "Back on the Road Again is a great song. _But_ is it better than Stairway to Heaven?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, finishing the rest of my drink and leaning in a little closer. "You can't use Stairway to Heaven in an argument, because Stairway trumps _literally_ any other rock song anyone has ever written."

Dean seemed a little more impressed by my answer than by my love of REO Speedwagon, and shot me a grin in the dim lighting of Sam's room. When he spoke, his voice had dropped an octave so it was close to a low, almost sultry drawl. "Finally, something we can agree on."

I couldn't help but return the grin. Sam had mentioned his older brother's love of classic rock a few times before, but now that I was actually sat here talking to Dean, it almost seemed like his younger brother had underplayed it. I'd never met someone who talked about some of my favourite bands so passionately, and (with the exception of his misplaced hatred of REO Speedwagon) he wasn't elitist about it. There was no hint that he felt like he was better than anyone else because he listened to AC/DC over One Direction, or any other modern bands that just hadn't taken our interest. 

Dean's eyes dropped to my lips, just for a second before he looked back up to meet my gaze, and for a few seconds we just sat there, perched on Sam's bed without speaking. I could have sworn that he leaned forwards, just a little more, but before I could be certain the bedroom door swung open, and Dean backed off instantly. Sam appeared in the doorway, laughing at the two of us when he saw us on the bed. "Are you two seriously still in here?"

I blushed, putting a little more distance between Dean and myself while he glanced over at me, that same grin from earlier on his lips. "What can I say, Sammy? You've got great taste in friends."

"Oh yeah?" Sam cocked an eyebrow as his older brother stood up. "Well the two of you have been in here for over an hour. Are you still arguing about your shitty bands?"

"Hey!" Dean pointed a finger at his younger brother as he approached him. "Don't talk about Led Zeppelin like that." 

Sam held up his hands defensively, shooting Dean a grin. "Alright, alright. Just get your ass out there, okay? People want to see you do a keg stand."

The idea of doing a keg stand in the middle of a room full of people seemed to appeal to him, so Dean clapped Sam on the back with a chuckle as he headed for the door, pausing only to look back at me. His tongue darted out over his lips as he looked down at me, and for a second his grin seemed more than just friendly. As quickly as it had appeared though, the expression was gone from his face, and he'd disappeared back into the front room, where the party was still going on. 

"Come on." Sam grinned, tugging me to my feet. "Charlie and Jess have been waiting to do shots with you for like half an hour."


	2. Fool in the Rain

The next morning I woke up with the mother of all hangovers. My memories of the night after watching Dean do a Keg Stand successfully became a little hazy, partially because of Jess and Charlie's insistence on vodka shots. I did remember being bundled into a taxi by a guy I assumed was Sam and winding up back at the apartment Charlie and I shared, so the night hadn't gone _too_ badly. 

My phone was little help in piecing together the post-vodka party. There were a lot of pictures of me and Jess dancing, pictures of me giving Charlie a piggyback, and a whole lot of selfies of me and Sam, looking progressively more and more drunk as I flipped through them. There was even a picture of me and Dean that I vaguely remembered being taken by Sam, probably towards the end of the night. My social media wasn't too embarrassing - a couple of videos of Sam and I singing some God-awful karaoke, and one of Charlie and Jess slow dancing in the middle of the kitchen. 

Charlie seemed largely unaffected by the vodka when I walked into the kitchen half an hour later. She was already cooking breakfast for the two of us, and there was a steaming pot of coffee waiting for me when I padded into the room. 

"Morning Princess." She called, a little louder than necessary. I couldn't help but shoot her a disgruntled frown, grumbling something under my breath as I made a myself a coffee. "What was that?"

I took one slow sip, and then another, glaring at her. "Never again, Bradbury."

"You say that every time." She pointed out, shooting me a cheerful smile as I eased myself into one of the stools at the counter. "And for some reason, I don't believe you."

"Next time we're doing tequila." I shot her a vicious grin, and it was her turn to glare at me. 

" _No_. Not after the last time." She pointed at me threateningly with her spatula before returning to the pancakes she was making. While I watched her, I couldn't help but chuckle into my coffee mug. To celebrate my birthday we'd gone out drinking as a group, and I'd persuaded Charlie to do tequila shots. The evening had ended with her getting carried home by Sam, and since then she'd refused to go near the stuff, let alone actually drink it. 

I sat in silence, nursing my headache while Charlie cooked and served us breakfast, and for a little while we ate without speaking. She was the one to break the silence. 

"You excited for your date tomorrow night?"

I groaned internally, but tried not to show my apprehension. A few days earlier, Charlie had told me about a guy from one of her classes who'd asked for my number. After asking my permission she'd given it to him, and had effectively set us up on a blind date for tomorrow night. Pretty much all I knew about the guy was that his name was Gordon Walker (not on any social media), he studied at Stanford with us, and he supported the Dodgers. I only knew the last fact because he was wearing a Dodgers jersey in the picture of him Charlie had shown me. 

The idea of blind dates had never appealed to me before, but with the pool of eligible single men that I knew dwindling around me, and the prospect of signing up to Tinder enough to make me gag, I'd decided to go with the blind date. Of course, now I was _stressing_ about the blind date. Not only did I have the usual first date nerves, but I had the added issue of not knowing a God - Damn thing about the guy before I met him for the first time. 

"You're nervous." She read my facial expression expertly. 

"A little."

"Don't be." She offered me a comforting smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure it'll go great."

* * *

I was overdressed for _Harvelle's_ , from the high heels that clipped against the sidewalk as I made my way into the bar to the dark duster that swirled around my calves as the door swung shut behind me, but I didn't care. I was dressed up for my blind date with Gordon, which had been set for the new Italian restaurant that had opened nearby, but I'd barely stepped out of my taxi when my phone had alerted me to a text from him. A single line apology about how something had come up, and about how he wasn't going to be there. 

I'd stood there on the sidewalk for a few seconds in complete shock, until my brain actually registered that I'd been stood up for a blind date by the _person who organised it_. Although I hadn't been particularly upset by his move - I seriously knew _nothing_ about the guy, so I didn't have much to lose - my pride was definitely wounded. I'd never been stood up for anything before, let alone a date. Now I was left out on the street on my own, huddling into my coat against the cold while I figured out my next move.

The prospect of trudging back to the apartment where I knew Charlie was expectantly awaiting details of the date and a review of Gordon had seemed a little disheartening, so instead I decided to get a drink. _Harvelle's_ was cheap and close by, so I'd ended up in there, sat alone at the bar with a surprisingly good Lynchburg Lemonade in one hand while I drummed my fingers against the bar slowly. 

The blind date with Gordon had been a long shot, and I'd known that when I'd half-heartedly agreed to see him earlier in the week, but it still stung to know that I'd put in the effort of getting dressed up, only to be left on the sidewalk with nothing more than a text message. More than anything, I felt embarrassed, but I wasn't totally sure why. It was an asshole move on his part, and if I was to tell anyone about this, _he'd_ come across as the bad guy. So why was I almost cringing with embarrassment at this?

"Drinking alone, huh?" A familiar voice to my left roused me from my thoughts and surprised me. When I swung around in my seat, Dean was watching me from the neighbouring barstool, smiling gently. "Must've been a rough day."

"You've got no idea." I said quietly, chuckling mirthlessly as I put my almost empty drink back down on the bar. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke, and then Dean broke the silence. 

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Nah." I shrugged, shaking my head. "It's just... crap. Don't worry about it."

"You want me to take your mind off it?"

My head jerked up a little at the tone of voice. If I hadn't known any better, I would have guessed it almost sounded like he was flirting with me. When I looked over at him though, his expression gave nothing away. He was looking at me with those same twinkling green eyes, that same semi-smile as I'd seen at Sam's birthday.

"Come on." He smiled gently, motioning to the back of the bar, at a booth tucked into the corner. "I'll introduce you to some friends." 

For a moment I thought about saying no. I thought about Charlie, who was probably still waiting up for me at the apartment, and I thought about how strange it seemed, to be hanging out with my best friend's older brother, but when Dean offered me a hand to help me off the barstool, those thoughts vanished. Without stopping to consider it too much, I took his hand and allowed him to lead me across the bar to his table. I tried not to think too deeply about the hand that settled easily on my waist when he introduced me to his friends, and tried to ignore how good it sounded when he said my name. 

"Alright, that's my best friend, Cas." He pointed to the man closest to me, still dressed in a suit and blue tie that he'd loosened a little around his neck. Cas shot me a small smile and lifted his hand in an awkward wave, murmuring a quiet 'hello'. 

"That's Gabe, his older brother." Dean motioned to the man sat next to Cas, whose eyes seemed to match the whiskey he was swilling in his glass. He was a little more eager, and stood up to greet me, a huge grin splitting his face. 

"That right there is Benny." The last man seemed a little older than the other three, and although he was as confident as Gabe had been he carried it differently. When Benny eased himself out of his chair to say hello, he did so by placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles, shooting me a playful wink before sitting back down. The attention made my cheeks flush just a little. 

"Play nicely, guys." Dean instructed as we sat down. "This is Sammy's best friend, so we've got to take care of her tonight, alright?"

In an instant, the tone from before had disappeared, and he was looking at me the way he'd done the first time we'd met. Of _course_ he hadn't been flirting with me, I realised. To him, I was just his kid brother's best friend. I was off-limits. 

That being said, I quickly realised that the guys were a lot of fun. Castiel and Dean were best friends in high school, and through their friendship Cas had introduced him to Gabe, who'd been in need of a job. Now he worked with Dean and Benny at the salvage yard, although as Dean assured me _he was still the best mechanic in town_. 

They were all nice, but as I watched them and listened to their conversations I realised they were something of a patchwork group of friends. Benny was the most stereotypical southern gentleman I'd ever seen, his voice a low and relaxed drawl as he leaned back in his chair. Gabe was the opposite - seven feet of energy in a 5'6 package. Cas on the other hand was quiet, and a little reserved until he was about four beers in when he finally loosened up. His suit jacket was shrugged off and tossed over the back of his chair, along with his tan trench coat, and when he was five beers down he actually challenged Dean to a game of darts. 

"You sure you want to lose money tonight, buddy?" Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair. Cas nodded, slamming his palm down on the table determinedly. 

"Fifty dollars, Winchester." He challenged, cheeks flushed pink from alcohol. Dean looked at him in amusement for a few seconds before laughing and standing up. 

"You've got cash to burn. C'mon, Novak."

I watched the two men stand up, smiling gently as Cas stumbled a little before finding his balance. They left the table, shit-talking each other good-naturedly, and as Cas set up his first shot Dean turned back to the table, still grinning. He met my gaze, and for a moment I could have sworn that same flirty look from before was back in his eyes. Then he closed one eye in a wink, and turned back to the game. 

"So how'd you know Dean-O?" Gabe asked, swinging around to look at me properly. I explained that I was Sam's best friend, and that we'd met at his surprise birthday party. Gabe chuckled at that, nodding slowly. "So _you're_ the girl he wouldn't shut up about?"

That took me by surprise. I paused, my drink halfway to my mouth as I looked over at Gabriel. "Excuse me?"

"The girl he argued with, right? About uh... What band was it?" Gabe snapped his fingers, looking over to Benny for support. 

"REO Speedwagon." He offered, sipping his drink. 

"That's the one!" Gabriel nodded enthusiastically. "He would _not_ shut up about your little argument in Sammy's room."

"Hey, REO Speedwagon is a great band." I smiled gently at the two men, but I couldn't help but be just a _little_ disappointed at the news Dean only talked about our argument. A part of me was hoping he'd just been talking about _me_ , not the way I'd gotten underneath his skin. 

"I'm not disagreeing with that!" Gabe held up his hands defensively, laughing. 

"Neither is Dean anymore." Benny murmured into his glass as he took a sip. His voice was so soft that I almost missed it, but when I turned my head sharply to look at him, he was staring at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. Gabe had clearly missed what Benny had said, because he was talking about something else entirely, off on a tangent about Sam. 

I listened to him for a few moments, barely registering what he was saying as my eyes drifted back over to the game of darts. Cas was taking his next shot, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he tried to concentrate. Behind him, Dean was leaning against the wall, staring at me. At first I thought he'd just zoned out, but when he caught me looking his lips quirked into another semi-smile, and he winked again. Thankfully, Gabe had Benny fully engaged in a conversation about how likely it was that he could take the rest of the week off work while he waited for the release of a video game he wanted, so neither of them noticed the blush that burned my cheeks.

Dean won the darts game against Cas fairly quickly, and when they came back to the booth for more drinks Cas shot him a surly look. "I want a rematch."

"I don't think you can _afford_ a rematch." Gabe patted his shoulder gently, chuckling as his younger brother finished his beer. "How about we get you another drink instead?"

Cas seemed to like the idea, and walked with his brother to the bar. Benny offered to buy me a refill and get Dean another beer before following them up, leaving me and Dean alone. 

"So, you wanna talk about why you were drinking alone?" He asked quietly, thumbing the top of his empty beer bottle as he spoke. I noticed he wasn't looking directly at me. 

"I uh... Got stood up." I admitted, trying not to physically cringe as I said the words aloud. Dean's eyebrows shot for his hairline at that. 

"You got stood up?" He echoed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah..." I looked down at the table, gnawing at the inside of my cheek. When I finally looked back up at him, Dean was still staring at me in disbelief. 

"Guy's an asshole." He said plainly, without asking for any further explanation. I couldn't help but laugh at how adamant he was, but he didn't laugh with me. "No, I'm serious. Dude's a fucking asshole."

"Yeah." I conceded with a small smile, pulling out my phone to show him the text message. When he read it, he shook his head slowly. 

"Fuck him." He said slowly, looking up from my phone to meet my gaze. "You can do better than a guy who leaves you hanging with just a shitty text message."

I kept eye contact with him for a little longer than was strictly necessary - it was hard not to stare at him, from those big green eyes to those full lips. It was like he'd stepped out of some artist's imagination and was just walking around among the rest of us. For a few moments neither of us spoke, we just stared at each other in comfortable silence, listening to the music around us.

"Drinks!" Gabe called loudly as he approached the booth, breaking the silence and causing me to jump out of my seat in surprise. The three men had returned, holding beers aloft as they approached the table. I scooted across in the booth to make room for Gabe and Cas as they approached, and when I looked back over at Dean he'd turned his attention to Benny, who was extending a beer to him. 

The evening continued on like that. Cas challenged Dean to another game of darts, which he refused, planting himself firmly in the seat next to me. Instead, Cas and Gabe duked it out at the darts board for almost half an hour, both making equally terrible shots at the board before declaring it a tie and sitting back in the booth. 

"You both suck." Dean informed them helpfully, sipping his beer. Gabe shrugged theatrically, shooting Dean a mock glare. 

"I was playing nicely. I'm not going to annihilate my drunk baby brother and embarrass him in front of our new friend, am I, Dean-O?"

Dean considered that for a second, before shrugging. "Why not? I do it to Sammy all the time?"

"That, my friend." Gabe leaned across the table to look Dean in the eye. "Is because you are an _asshole_."

"Can't argue with that." Dean admitted with a grin, taking a sip of his beer.

While Gabe started trying to talk to him about getting time off work to play his new video game, I checked my phone. I had a couple of texts from Sam, mainly about organising study sessions for Finals Week. I also had 3 missed texts from Charlie, getting increasingly more concerned at my lack of response. I sent her a quick message apologising, and explaining that I'd tell her all about the date when I got home, but that I was fine, before standing up and shooting the boys an apologetic grin. 

"This has been fun, guys, but I've got to get home." I grinned around at them, realising that both Dean and Benny had stood up with me, like true gentlemen. 

"You're not walking back, are you?" Dean asked. I shrugged, grabbing my coat from where I'd flung it over the back of my chair. 

"I got a taxi here, so I'll probably just get one back." 

Dean shook his head stubbornly, downing the last of his beer before I could protest. "Nope, no way. I'll drive you back."

"Dean, that was your sixth beer." I laughed. " _You_ should probably be the one getting a taxi home."

"Sweetheart, do I look drunk to you?" He asked seriously, cocking an eyebrow at me. I had to admit, although he wasn't stone cold sober, he didn't look drunk either. "C'mon, I'll even drive at the speed limit."

I clicked my tongue a couple of times, thinking about it. Although I hated the idea of getting into the car with someone who'd been drinking, Dean seemed like he knew what he was doing. And I _really_ didn't feel like spending more money on a taxi. 

"Okay, deal." I smiled gently up at him. "Thanks, Dean."

"Not a problem." He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. After saying goodbye to the other three (including getting a surprisingly friendly hug from Cas), Dean led me out of the bar and over to his Chevy, a sleek and well kept classic car that I could help but stare at in awe. Dean caught me looking, and chuckled. 

"This here is my baby." He patted the roof affectionately before opening the door for me. "Fifty years old, and still runs as well as the day she was built."

After getting into the driver's seat and kicking the engine into gear with a low rumble, Dean peeled out of the parking lot a little faster that was _completely_ necessary, grinning over at me in the darkness. 

"What happened to sticking to the speed limit?" I teased. 

"Oops." Was the only response he could muster, winking at me just like he had done back at the bar. Thankfully it was almost completely dark in the car, otherwise he probably would have seen the dark blush that crept over my cheeks. I couldn't help it - it was almost the most natural response possible to being in a car with someone this attractive. 

I directed Dean to my apartment quite easily, and when he parked in front of the building we sat in silence for a few moments before I thanked him for driving me back. 

"Like I said, not a problem." He smiled gently. "Just uh... I'm sorry about that guy. Seriously, he was an asshole. You can do better."

I was a little taken aback, but touched by his concern. "Thanks, Dean."

"Yeah, well I've gotta look out for you, right?" He drummed his hands against the steering wheel a couple of times. "Sammy's best friend an' all."

In my pocket, I felt my phone vibrate insistently. Probably another text from Charlie, wondering where I'd gotten to. As nice as it was to sit and talk to Dean, I had to cut the night short. 

"Thanks again, Dean." I smiled at him warmly, opening the door and stepping out into the chill of the night. "See you around."


End file.
